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CHAPTER SIX

The eagle shifts on my windowsill, its yellow eyes fixed on me. Bear with me just a while longer, winged lord of the skies. I would very much like to relive my life one last time before I let you carry me wherever it is you'll be going. If you're hungry, here, I've got some cheese I'll share with you.

The bird gives me a haughty look of contempt and takes flight, almost straight up. But it doesn't leave, just remains circling high overhead. Of course. Eagles don't take pieces of cheese tossed at them by human hands. They hunt their own prey.

I picture myself, young and pretty – yes, I know I was pretty – puking all over the ground the moment you expressed your interest in me in front of the entire Greek assembly. Goodness help me, a proud man as you were, that must have stung.

I laugh softly to myself. High above, I hear the eagle's cry. I think it sounds somewhat indignant, but it's probably just my imagination.

O-O-O

Avoiding to cross paths with you had already become almost second nature to me, so I looked around automatically to make sure you were outside before walking into your tent to put your clothes away in your chest. I lifted the cover and looked at the meticulously folded cloaks, tunics and chitons inside. On top of the clothes, wrapped in a fine piece of linen, was the precious cup no one was allowed to touch but you, the one you used exclusively for your libations to Zeus, usually before going to battle.

For the first time since arriving at your camp, I wondered what you prayed for when you raised that cup to the sky. Victory? Glory? Or, more simply, your life and the lives of your men? What did you feel when you headed for the battlefield? Did you dread the possibility that you might not come back? In spite of your apparent fearlessness, did you know what it meant to be afraid in the secret of your heart?

Looking at the cup resting on top of your clothes, I realized that giving me access to your personal things was indeed an act of trust. You didn't open the doors to your privacy easily. Perhaps I had been wrong and you were in fact trying to use persuasion to win me – not with words, but with actions.

Which would be perfectly typical, I thought to myself. Actions before words, yes, that would definitely be you.

"I got word from Eudorus." Your voice, right behind me, startled me out of my skin. It was eerie, the way you could move without making a sound. I stood up and you went on: "Your uncle went to pick up your mother and took her home with him. She's free."

Eyes stubbornly down, your whole body rod-straight. Iphis' words echoed inside my head. I made a deliberate effort to raise my eyes and look at you. You blinked briefly, as if caught by surprise.

There was no denying that you had been kind to my mother. There was no denying that bringing me the news that she'd been freed was actually considerate of you. And there was definitely no denying that you hadn't cashed in the favour the way I thought you would.

Maybe you really were better than I gave you credit for. I cleared my throat.

"Did Eudorus say anything about how she was doing?"

You were looking at me but you didn't answer right away, as if you were distracted by something. Then you said:

"Her wounds have healed. But for the rest, she was the same as when we left." After a pause, you added: "Maybe she'll improve now that she's with her family and back at her childhood home."

It was an attempt at comfort and I appreciated it.

"Yes, I hope so", I said. You nodded, hesitated as if you were about to say something else, then took a step back. I felt awkward.

"They're pretty", I said, gesturing vaguely toward the table. You raised your eyebrows in a mute question. "The bread baskets", I explained.

"I thought you might like them", you said, quite unexpectedly. "I'm glad you finally deigned to look at them."

I frowned up at you, but there was a mischievous, almost boyish smile playing on your lips, and I felt the corners of my mouth tug upwards in response.

Another thing there was no denying, was that you were an extremely handsome man…

What the hell was wrong with me?! To be civil with you was one thing, but to go all smiles and thinking you attractive… Get a grip, Briseis!

"Well, I have to go back to my loom. Thank you for the news about my mother."

Was that a look of disappointment on your face? If it was, it didn't even last a moment. Your voice became instantly cold and matter-of-factly:

"Very well. Send someone in with the best wine. Ajax is coming over for supper."

The words "yes, sir" were out of my mouth before I could even register what I was about to say and this time I undoubtedly saw your hands curl into fists at your sides.

Well, what did you expect? As I had told Iphis, was I supposed to just fall on my knees with gratitude that you didn't act like a brute?

I walked out of the tent, fuming not so much at you, but at myself. A group of girls were getting ready to go fetch water from the cistern. I beckoned them over, took the pitcher from the hands of one of them and gestured to the shed where the provisions were kept.

"Take some jars of the best wine to the tent of the son of Peleus. He'll be needing them for supper", I ordered. The girl gave me a look of surprise. I wasn't usually so curt to the servants. "Also, make sure to put some fresh bread on the freaking new baskets."

Beautiful. So now I was swearing like a soldier. This war camp environment was obviously rubbing off on me, and not for the better.

Or maybe it was just the fact that you unsettled me…

I balanced the pitcher on my hip and set off to the cistern with the other girls. Going to fetch water with the common servants was a bit of an act of defiance, a refusal of the privileges you had accorded me. Just doing that was making me feel better already.

I walked briskly ahead of the group, trying to release the pent up tension. The girls' voices behind me sounded like water skipping over the pebbles on a mountain stream.

I breathed in deeply. There was an almost giddy sensation of freedom in walking out in the open like that, just a young woman among a group of young women. When I was a child, sometimes I'd get permission to go with my mother's servants to the fountain or the river. Of course, all that was over as soon as I became engaged to Mynes. The king's bride could not be seen walking around in menial chores with common servants. And since I'd been married, I rarely ever left the palace at all. Being the queen was a coveted position, but, in a sense, it had meant being locked in a golden cage.

Well, a golden cage was still incomparably better than bronze shackles.

Except that I was wearing no shackles, was I? Going to the cistern for water tasted of freedom because I didn't have to do it twice every day, mornings and evenings, come rain or sunshine. It felt like a cheerful stroll because I was doing it of my own free will, not in obedience to somebody's orders. Because I didn't have to haul the heavy loaded pitchers back and forth even when my legs were aching and my arms were sore from a hard day's work.

A voice a little louder than the others cut through my daydreaming.

"You reckon this means 'e's goin' back to Diomeda?", she was saying. "If you ask me, it was 'igh time 'e figured what this one's been doin', stringin' 'im along."

"She's just bein' smart. I sure don' blame 'er for it", another voice replied. "Why shouldn' she get as much as she can from 'im before she gives 'im what 'e wants? If 'e's fallin' for it, that's 'is own problem. Men are fools an' if a girl knows 'ow to play the game, good for 'er."

"Yeah, but we're the ones what 'ave to put up with 'er 'igh an' mighty airs. Actin' lady o' the 'ouse and bossin' everyone around. Must think she's still a queen. An' now she's all pissed that 'e sent 'er to do some proper work, like the rest of us. Seen 'ow she spoke to Eudokia?"

I nearly tripped on my own feet. Was that how I looked to those women? Like a gold-digging, manipulative bitch? And arrogant to boot?

My throat constricted so much I could hardly breathe. The injustice of it all was choking me. They had no idea! Absolutely no idea. I hadn't been playing games, I hadn't been playing anything at all. I had been aching, and scared, and mourning.

I couldn't help myself. I turned around to confront them. They stopped on their tracks, startled.

"Not that I need to justify my actions to any of you lot", alright, so maybe I was a little arrogant after all, "but I'm tired of hearing you talk rubbish. When people don't know what they're saying, they would do well not to say anything at all. I'm here today because I chose to be, not because anybody ordered me to come. The position I have in the household of the son of Peleus is the one he entrusted me with, not because I've been 'playing games', as you put it, but because he thought I was the right person for the job. Hearing the way you indulge in idle gossip, it seems pretty obvious why he wouldn't choose any of you." I noticed with satisfaction that they were squirming a little. "And if you really believe the son of Peleus could be 'played' by some upstart bitch, then, by all means, go right ahead. Try doing that yourselves. You might find you wouldn't live long to regret it."

Had I just used your reputation to threaten them? Sweet Hera, what was the matter with me?

I turned my back on them and started walking again, breathing hard.

It was all your fault. You had put me in this position, where I was neither really free, nor just a simple slave. I hadn't asked anything from you, I didn't want anything from you, but you were making me look like a common whore in the eyes of those imbeciles.

Yet… would I want to trade places with those peasant girls who had nothing better to do than speculate about the love life of their master?

The answer, of course, was no. I had asked nothing of you, but I actually enjoyed what you had given me. Not the privileges as such – I had been working as hard as I could, because I found work helped distract me – but the relative autonomy. The responsibility. The respect.

The feeling that I was somehow special in your eyes.

The mother of all headaches made my brain throb against my skull. I couldn't tell heads from tails in my life anymore.